


Such Is The Nature of Drunken Teenagers

by MistCover



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-25
Updated: 2012-03-25
Packaged: 2017-11-02 13:00:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistCover/pseuds/MistCover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>DAVE: kinda feels like we should be drinking our asses off here </p>
<p>DAVE: no adults nothing to do </p>
<p>DAVE: thats what you do without adults right </p>
<p>DAVE: get wasted all the time?</p>
<p>Eridan and Drunk!John.<br/>Feat. Kanaya.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Such Is The Nature of Drunken Teenagers

**Author's Note:**

> My part of an Art Trade so it's not something I ship but she liked it so all is well :)  
> mistcover.tumblr.com

DAVE: kinda feels like we should be drinking our asses off here 

DAVE: no adults nothing to do 

DAVE: thats what you do without adults right 

DAVE: get wasted all the time?

 

And, of course, only Dave would be able to get enough shitty vodka to make sure everyone got plenty. He insisted it was ironic, that the shitty drinks were a rite of passage since time immemorial. So what choice did John have? He went along with it, sipping gingerly at his drink, then actually taking long pulls at it when Rose started drunkenly reciting her wizard fan fiction from memory. The alcohol burned on the way down, lighting a fire in John’s veins. Within minutes, the room was beginning to grow softer on the edges, shapes and colors swimming, even with his glasses. The boy relaxes, leaning back on the couch and letting the warmth of the drinks lull him into a semi-conscious repose, before he hears a familiar voice.

“Wwell hello John, fancy seein you here.” Eridan said, smiling down at the human. John opens his eyes, staring at the other’s yellow sclera. 

“Hey Eridan.” He smiles back, all buck teeth and innocence. 

“So I wwas thinking’,” the Troll boy starts, “about you. Evven though you’re a filthy lowwblood, you’re pretty good at bein a leader, and ten times as deadly as evveryone else here.” His cheeks light with a soft purple blush as he averts his eyes.

“Heh, thanks! I thought no one around here appreciates what I do enough.” The Heir muses, scrunching his face in an effort to find the right words. 

“So anyways, I wwas hoping maybe you and I could givve pailin a shot?” Eridan blurts out, face practically glowing royal purple. The human starts at the suggestion, blinking blue eyes. The rational part of him says no, this is stupid, this is stupid to the one million and tenth degree, don’t do it. But the alcohol addled portion of his brain whispers do it, do it, it’ll be fun, do it, try it out, who cares? The world is gone, everyone’s dead. Do it.

“Yeah, sure!” He giggles. “Lead the wa-WHOA!” He is cut off my Eridan grabbing him, mashing their lips together in a satire of a proper kiss. They both taste of cheap vodka and cranberry juice, tongues thrashing against each other. It is messy, it is crude, but both boys seem to be enjoying themselves. Eridan is already tearing off his cape and pants, bending awkwardly around John and the couch to shimmy out of his garments. 

“Oh fuck yes, John,” he starts, “I wwas thinkin I’d nevver get anyone to do this wwith.” He is gasping for breath around John’s lips, eyes closed. John doesn’t respond, instead gripping grey shoulders and feebly grinding his hips upward. And then he is diving back again, forcing their mouths together with the urgency of the drunk and desperate. The Prince helps John shimmy out of his jeans and shirt, and soon both are more or less naked (underwear and copious amounts of jewelry excluded.) 

“Okay, I’m not sure we really should- oooh, that’s nice- but I’m not gay!” John blurts out, his sober brain briefly breaking the surface of his lust, even as Eridan is working his mouth down John’s chest, suckling at one nipple, hands roaming everywhere.

“Wwhat the evverlastin fuck is that? Some stupid human concept? Your species is so pathetic and hateful and evveryone livves on land, howw moronic can you get?” The troll’s eyes flash with a sudden anger, not necessarily aimed entirely at the boy who he is divesting of his underwear. Licking a slow line down from his bellybutton, Eridan starts when he gets to the human’s crotch. “Wwhat is that?!” he gasps.

“It’s my penis…?” John starts. At this point he’s pretty nervous, sweating lightly and furrowing his brows in doubt. Okay this was an awful idea, his brain concludes. Okay this was an awesome idea, his crotch says. It’s all a confusing bundle that isn’t helped in the slightest by Eridan exploring his cock, licking the tip lightly, running his fingertips up and down the length of it, trying to see how it works. 

“Can you evven movve this thing?” Eridan asks, curious.

“I guess a little if I try really hard but no not really?” The human responds, biting his lower lip. The troll, in turn, shrugs, rearing up from his position off the couch to join John, settling on his knees and letting the boy take a nice, long look at his own equipment. He’s quite proud of his bulge, actually- it happens to be 2 inches longer than the norm on Alternia, but what else do you expect from fucking royalty?- and it’s fully out of it’s shell now, slick with purple pre cum and waving slightly, begging for something to thrust into. It’s not human, that’s for sure, but it’s not so wholly alien as to shock John.

“Uh…” John starts, elegantly.

“So wwhere the fuck is your nook?” Eridan demands. 

“My what?” 

“Oh my god you don’t havve one do you?”

“One what!?”

“This!”

“What the hell why do you have both?”

“Both wwhat?”

“Boy and girl parts… you know…”

“No I fuckin don’t!”

“Yuh huh!”

“Nuh uh!”

“Yuh huh!”

“Nuh uh!”

“Yuh-ohmygod!” Tired of waiting, Eridan has elected to instead slam himself down onto John, driving the full length of the human inside of him in one fast thrust. It burns, it burns like hellfire and the feeling you get low in your gut when you eat food that is way too spicy but godDAMN does it feel good at the same time. John is keening, biting his knuckle and screwing his eyes shut. The shot of pleasure that rockets through the troll boy is enormous, and it’s all he can do to stay upright as he begins to move, sliding up and slamming down again. 

A minute in and the two of them have settled into a clumsy rhythm, Eridan gripping his bulge with one hand and keeping balance with the other. He has leaned down, so the two boy’s faces are nearly flush against each other. John is incoherent, a stream of nonsense words coming out of his mouth in ever increasing speed. Without warning, he bucks his hips once, nearly screaming as he pumps the troll full of his cum. Eridan reels back, dislodging himself from John in the process.

“Okay wwhat the hell wwas that all about?!” He shouts.

“I’m sorry it’s just I’ve never done that with anyone before!” John pleads, eyes wide but glazed with the satisfied glow of oxytocin and endorphins. 

“No I mean you’re not supposed to put your material inside of me, that’s just dumb.” The troll crawls his way up the couch to straddle John’s face awkwardly. “Noww fuckin finish wwhat you started!” He orders.

The Heir is cautious, licking the tip of the odd tentacle-like apparatus, sliding his tongue along the smooth grey surface. He pops it into his mouth softly, suckling the tip, before the troll thrusts inward and John gags because oh wow that was a lot of weird alien dick to take all at once. But it swiftly becomes second nature, the human working Eridan’s bulge around his mouth, swirling his tongue. Okay, now the bulge is thicker, that’s cool, he can handle this- oh. Oh my god that is a lot of cum, and when Eridan starts it’s like he never stops, filling John’s mouth within seconds before spilling messily all over the couch, dripping onto the carpet, a sticky purple mess of viscous fluid.

When all is said and done, both boys collapse in a heap, panting and attempting to rationalize to themselves what they just did. Suddenly, footsteps are heard. Measured, slow footsteps.

“Hello Eridan I Was Going To Inquire As To Oh Sweet Mother Grub That Will Never Come Out Of The Carpet We’ll Have To Buy A Rug Maybe Something In A Nice Auburn Color,” Kanaya is standing in the doorway, arms folded primly across her chest, concern painting her features.

“This isn’t wwhat it looks like!” Eridan spits, scrambling off the couch to hastily pull his pants back on.

“I Don’t Give A Single Fuck What It Is Or Is Not I Simply Am Concerned For The State Of My Furnishings, You May Have Very Well Ruined My Couch As Well. Also, Hello John.” John waves meekly back at her, face burning red-hot to be caught, naked, unable to find the coordination to get his clothes and dress himself.

Eridan finishes dressing just as Kanaya finishes talking. She turns to leave and he stumbles after her, bubbling over with weak excuses.

John just lays there.

Well, fuck.


End file.
